


Christmas Cheer

by SilverSkiesAtMidnight



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Because there are some fine smut writers but this fandom deserves a few works without, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Not Britpicked, Romance, Soft Harry Hart, Some blood and violence at the beginning, There's no sheep at the center of this it's fluff through and through, loving relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSkiesAtMidnight/pseuds/SilverSkiesAtMidnight
Summary: Prompt: Character A never really had a Christmas growing up, but is determined to make sure Character B has a good one. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) they have no real concept of what counts as "excessive".In which Character A is Harry and Character B is Eggsy, and I provide the tooth-rooting fluff we all need in these dark times.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad & Merlin, Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 121





	Christmas Cheer

It starts, as too many things do, when Harry puts a lightbulb through a man’s eye socket. 

Glass crunches, and the man stumbles backwards with a strangled shriek. Harry easily knocks the gun out of his hand, using the hotel lamp to slam his skull into the corner of the bedside table. He crumples without another sound, and doesn’t move again. 

“Oh hey,” Eggsy says brightly, yanking his pen free from the neck it’s lodged in and skillfully dodging the resulting arterial spray. “Forgot to mention, I’m taking Mum and Dais Christmas decoration shopping this weekend.” He ducks down behind the end of the bed where Harry can’t see him. 

“Oh?” Harry vaults across the bed, barely needing to dodge the several panicked shots sent his way before he wraps the lamp cord around the final man’s neck. “And what has brought this on?” 

Eggsy pops back up, dropped gun in hand. He hits the man Harry’s slowly choking neatly in the heart, and the body goes limp. Harry drops it to ground, gratefully flexing his fingers. Garroting is terribly hard on the hands. 

“Christmas lights,” Eggsy says, poking the shattered shards of bulb with his foot. “The new house is way too big for the old crap. They’ve only got like a strand of lights and some ornaments, an’ Daisy’s getting old enough to actually remember holidays when she gets big, she deserves a proper Christmas. More than the pathetic shite we had back when Dean was still around. Or, hell, since as far back as I can remember, really.” 

“Ah,” Harry nods, tilting his head thoughtfully. 

“Galahad, Gawain, if you two could put this merry little conversation on hold for a few,” Merlin snaps in their ears, “Do ya think you could clear the hotel before the backup that just hit the lobby gets to your floor?” 

“On our way out, mum,” Eggsy replies with no real snark, already striding towards the balcony. 

“Eggsy darling, we can still simply take the stairs,” Harry attempts, with no real optimism. 

Sure enough, Eggsy doesn’t even slow down, just glances back to grin cheekily at him. “Wot, scared you’ll break a hip?”

With a sigh, Harry follows after his partner, unclipping the Kingsman issued bungee cable hidden inside his belt. “More worried you’ll dislocate your knee again and I’ll have to listen to you whine about desk duty for the next month.”

“Hey, don’t lie,” he protests, sticking his own cord to the outside of the handrail. “You loved having me home for a whole month.”

“Well, I certainly won’t disavow you of any beliefs that make you happy,” Harry quips in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips in answer to Eggsy’s bright grin. 

“They’re stepping onto your floor, if you’re curious,” Merlin informs them in a beleaguered tone. 

And then they’re jumping (thankfully landing with all joints intact) and running, and making the grueling trip to the extraction point, and the subject of Christmas decorations is dropped for other things, such as Eggsy investigating whether he can annoy Merlin into breaking protocol and muting his line while they’re still technically on a mission (he cannot, but Harry is more than happy to watch him try). 

But Harry doesn’t forget about the brief conversation. He merely makes a quiet note of it, tucking it away for a later date. 

***

“What’ll you get up to while I’m out?” Eggsy asks him the following Saturday, plopping down next to him on the couch to pull on a pair of truly hideous trainers. Harry pointedly looks back down at his laptop, restraining himself from commenting on the many much nicer pairs of shoes Harry knows for a fact are upstairs next to his own (he knows because he put most of them there, as if their mere presence was ever going to fix his boyfriend’s taste). 

“Nothing terribly exciting, I’m afraid. I thought I might head in to headquarters for a bit, I’ve got some paperwork to attend to.” Because the only way to get away with dating a fellow spy was to never actually tell a lie if you could avoid it. He _was_ heading into headquarters for a bit, and he always had some paperwork to attend to. 

He never said these things were connected. 

“Well don’t go having too much fun without me,” Eggsy snorts, leaning over to press a quick kiss to the side of his head. “Gotta go, mum’s expecting me.” 

Harry and Michelle have been getting on well enough these past couple of years that he doesn’t feel the least bit guilty delaying him a moment longer, snagging Eggsy and pulling him back in for a deeper, more lingering kiss, which the younger man accepts without a hint of fuss. 

“Right bastard, you are,” Eggsy murmurs into his mouth, pressing them together one last time before pulling back, lips swollen and cheeks distinctly pinker than they were a minute earlier. “You better be right there and ready to finish what you started when I get home.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, my dear,” he vows, smiling warmly. “Now go have fun. Tell your mother I said hello.” 

“‘Course,” Eggsy promises, grabbing his wallet off the table. “Love you!” 

And with that, he’s out the door, leaving Harry staring after him with the same familiar warm pool in his chest and soft smile on his face that still form every time he hears those words spoken so casually. 

His determination to carry out his self-appointed mission grows more resolute. 

He waits about twenty minutes before he heads out for the tailor shop, figuring that will put him on course to do what he needs and still get back before his partner. 

Merlin doesn’t even look up from his tablet when he walks into the office. “You’re about to ask me to do something I don’t want to do, aren’t you?” 

“I can hardly make you do anything you don’t want to,” Harry says mildly, taking a seat without waiting for an invitation. 

The other man heaves a sigh, finally setting the tablet down and looking him in the eye. “What do you want?” 

“Can you track Eggsy’s credit card and send me a list of everything he buys today?” 

Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up to his nonexistent hairline. “And is this breach of privacy something I need to be concerned about?” 

“Certainly not,” Harry assures him. “I simply need some information. It’s for a...project I’m working on.” 

“Harry,” Merlin says gently, leaning forward and putting his hands together on the desk in front of him. “If there is an issue of trust between you - ”

“Allow me to stop you there,” he says firmly, putting up a hand to cut him off. “I trust Eggsy with my life, that hasn’t changed in the slightest. I’m merely trying to get a sense of how I ought to go about preparing for our first Christmas as a couple. I’m hoping some of his purchases today will help me get a sense of what he’d appreciate.” 

“Ah.” Merlin relaxes slightly, sitting back in his chair. “Have you thought about just asking what he’d like?” 

Harry studies his hands, a rare tell that few but Merlin would ever recognize as anxiousness. “I know he isn’t expecting much,” he says slowly, running a thumb along a neatly manicured nail. “I’d simply like to make sure it’s everything he deserves.” 

Merlin purses his lips slightly, an expression Harry recognizes as his _fuck you, no I don’t have emotions, what are you talking about_ face. Finally, he nods. “Aye, I respect what you’re trying to do. But I’m not helping you spy on your boyfriend, _a fellow agent._ I feel it sets a bad precedent.”

Harry nods, disappointed but not particularly surprised. “Ah, well. It was worth an attempt.” He stands up, turning towards the door and glumly considering the paperwork that he might as well actually do, now that he’s here. 

“You’re not going to get what you need anyway, watching what he buys for his mum,” Merlin adds, already returning to his tablet. “You know the lad. Put some thought into it, show him you care. He’ll love whatever you do, simply because it’s _you_ who did it.” 

Harry lifts an eyebrow. “Well now, isn’t someone getting sentimental in their old age.” 

Merlin glowers at him. “Aye, you, ya daft cunt. Now get out of my office before I make sure you spend your holidays in the coldest, greyest country I can find an excuse to send you to.” 

Harry Hart is far too dignified to rush anywhere, but that’s certainly not to say he doesn’t know when it’s time to make an exit. 

***

It seems as though someone is looking out for him anyway, because the day after Harry stashes a very large and expensive selection of purchases in his second closet, Eggsy is assigned a week-long mission in Sri Lanka. While Harry will miss him terribly, of course, the timing is...suspiciously ideal. 

“I can’t fucking believe I have to be out of the country this close to Christmas,” Eggsy grumbles into his shoulder the morning he leaves, as they lie together in bed. 

“You’ll be back with plenty of time to spare, dear heart,” Harry murmurs into his hair. “It’s merely a surveillance mission, and hardly a world-ending one at that.”

“Exac’ly, someone else coulda done it,” the younger man mumbles obstinately, smooshing his face harder into his chest. 

“Yes, well, I’m sure you were chosen for a perfectly good reason. You’ll do beautifully.”

Eggsy snorts. “ _I_ know that.”

Harry kisses the top of his head. “Excellent. Now, if we don’t get out of bed soon, you’ll miss your flight out and Merlin will have _both_ our heads.”

A week proves to be more than enough time, even with his own work (although, through another mysterious stroke of luck, none of his missions take him out of the country. How fortunate). 

And so, the day before Eggsy is due to arrive home, he finds time to complete one extra little project. 

“They’re not poisoned,” he tells Merlin, after the other man stares at the plate of homemade Christmas cookies on his desk for nearly a full minute. 

Merlin narrows his eyes at him. “Funny you felt you needed to reassure me of that.” But he does gingerly pick up one of the slightly misshapen lumps and tentatively take a bite. Harry watches him carefully, as his expression morphs from suspicion to surprise. 

“Better than I would have expected,” he says, taking a second bite.

“High praise.” Harry leans back slightly in his chair, preening. 

Merlin snorts, setting the rest of the cookie on the edge of the plate. “Alright, own up. What’s the bribe for?”

Harry smiles graciously, picking up his cane and standing up. “Nothing at all, my old friend. I only wanted to say thank you for all you do.” 

Merlin looks at him knowingly. He picks up his tablet, sitting back in his chair. “Right. Eggsy’s mission is going swimmingly, in case you were interested. He’s on track to be home tomorrow.”

“Kingsman would crumble without you,” Harry says over his shoulder, already striding out the door, a small smile still on his lips.

***

“C’mon, guv, just tell me,” Eggsy whines, leaning against his arm as he’s lead up to the front door. 

“Patience, darling. And what have I told you about calling me that?” He chides with no real heat, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Keep your eyes closed, we’re almost there.”

He guides Eggsy up the front steps, careful not to let him trip. He opens the door, and leads him into the front hallway. “You may look now,” he murmurs.

Eggsy cracks one eye open, peeking out like he’s half expecting a bomb to go off. Then, his eyes open wide, lips parting in awe. “ _Harry,_ ” he breathes.

“I’m afraid I don’t have very much experience with this,” Harry admits, fingers fidgeting where they grip the handle of his cane. “My family was not precisely the kind to view Christmas as a time for one another, or as anything more than a chore, really. And I haven’t exactly made much effort myself over the years, not until… well, not until you. But I’ve made my best attempt.” 

“Bloody fuckin’ _hell,_ Harry.” Eggsy turns slowly, mouth gaping as he stares around at the coating of everything from garlands to lights to tinsel scattered across every available surface. The only bare item is the massive tree in the center of the living room, its branches nearly brushing the ceiling. “You did all this?” 

“I thought perhaps you might appreciate some proper Christmas cheer in this house,” he says mildly, managing to keep his voice from betraying the anxious pit in his stomach, but Eggsy is already walking further into the house, seeming almost entranced by the carefully arranged glittery cheer. 

It’s...a lot, Harry is well aware. But what he remembers of his childhood Christmases had been tasteful, elegant, and coldly efficient. For appearances only, completely without heart. 

The polar opposite of everything he loves about Eggsy. The opposite of what he wants to give the younger man, no matter how much he may complain about ugly trainers and Eggsy’s taste in brightly colored rugs. 

“It looks like Father Christmas threw up over everything you own,” he gasps, and Harry flinches. 

“It’s too much,” he states, his heart sinking. Abruptly, the decorations he’d put so much care into purchasing and arranging only seem as horribly tacky and over the top as he’d feared from the beginning, and he turns his gaze to his own shoes, unable to bear the sight.

A hand touches his cheek, and he reluctantly raises his eyes. He only catches a glimpse of Eggsy’s determined, flushed expression before the other man’s mouth is crushed against his. 

When he finally releases him, pulling back a few inches, a hand remains tangled in his hair at the back of his head. “I love it,” he breathes out. “I love it so fucking much. I love _you_ so fucking much, you soft-hearted bastard.” 

Harry reaches up to cup his cheek, feeling a tad dazed in the way that only Eggsy is able to make him feel. “Really? You like it?” he whispers. 

Eggsy squeezes him tighter. “It’s perfect. It’s so perfect, I fucking swear it.” He glances over towards the tree (chosen with such pickiness that Harry is quite certain the attendants at the Christmas tree lot were extremely relieved to see him go). “How come there’s nothing on the tree, though?” 

“I thought you might like to decorate it with me,” Harry tells him softly. “I’ve heard that’s something loved ones do together.”

Eggsy beams, his face lighting up like the sun. “You fucking sap,” he laughs breathlessly. “You know, I’d say this is the nicest fucking thing anyone’s ever done for me, but you already set that bar pretty high the first day we met, guv.” 

Harry’s hand reaches up, mirroring Eggsy as it cradles the back of his head. “You deserve nothing less, my darling,” he murmurs, leaning forward for another kiss.

One kiss quickly turns to another, and then one becomes indistinguishable from the next as they stumble upstairs towards the bedroom.

For, truly, the only redeeming element of having to be apart for two whole weeks is the reunion. 

***

Christmas Day dawns as grey and cold as can be expected in London, but the house at night is bright and full of life. 

A small pack of children race about at knee-level, Daisy having the time of her life romping with Percival’s (the only agent other than Roxy who was in the country and able to attend) three youngsters, the whole raucous group watched over fondly by her mum, Harry, Eggsy, Jamal and Ryan, Merlin, Roxy, or Percival and his wife, whoever’s closest. 

Harry reclines on the comfortable leather couch, stomach comfortably full of a delicious Christmas dinner and a glass of champagne in his hand as he watches with amusement as Roxy and Merlin fiercely debate over whether Merlin’s next project should be buttons that contain tiny throwing stars, or a tie that could project a hologram over the wearer’s face, disguising them from cameras. 

The couch dips beside him, and Eggsy cuddles into his side, cheeks rosy from champagne and cheer. “He’s just going to end up inventin’ ‘em both, you know,” he snickers quietly. 

Harry smiles softly down at him, draping an arm across his shoulder to pull him even closer. “A fact which I suspect our Ms. Morton is very aware of, as she’s only had one glass of champagne and Merlin is, I believe, on his fourth.”

Eggsy laughs into his shirt, such a bright and lovely sound, and Harry feels like sunflowers could grow in the warmth in his heart.

“Dear boy,” he murmurs. “Are you aware that I love you very much?”

He beams up at him, tucking his chin into his shoulder. “You’re a big sap,” he tells him sincerely. “I love you too.” As he speaks, Daisy runs past, laughing loudly as she’s chased by one of Percival’s boys. “Thank you so much,” he whispers. “For all of this.”

Harry presses a kiss to the top of his curls. “Merry Christmas, Eggsy.”

From somewhere in the kitchen, the sound of a champagne cork popping rings out, followed by laughter. He tips his head, resting his cheek on the younger man’s head. 

In the center of the room, the Christmas tree stands proud and bright, and the whole room seems to shine.

**Author's Note:**

> Got any more Kingsman prompts you want to see? Wanna talk about frogs? Either way, hmu on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sunflowersandink)!!
> 
> Comments and kudos fuel me, thank you so much for reading!!


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